


Alles Gute

by absolutelyCancerous (cal1brations)



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Blow Jobs, M/M, for Jean's birthday wooo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-08
Updated: 2014-04-08
Packaged: 2018-01-18 14:21:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1431694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cal1brations/pseuds/absolutelyCancerous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Having a birthday while living in the trainee barracks is… certainly something.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alles Gute

Having a birthday while living in the trainee barracks is… certainly something.

Jean wouldn’t say it’s particularly _great_ , because at the end of the day, he’s gotten several five-star-smacks on his back (which two of which are probably going to bruise a little), punched about twelve million times by all the other guys wishing him “good luck” in his years to come, and had to hear four different renditions of _Happy Birthday_ that were all, honestly, quite awful.

However, that doesn’t mean his birthday is a bad thing; if he were home, it’d have been nothing special really, aside from his mother cooing over him. At least in the barracks, the boys were kind enough to at least _remember--_ although Jean has a feeling a certain bunkmate might have had something to do with everyone remembering to wish him a happy birthday, but still.

Hell, he even laughed a little when Eren stepped up to him at dinner and socked him in the shoulder, snarkily wishing him a good new year before trotting back to his meal.

Back in their actual quarters, after dinner, the boys are bustling about with their usual nightly activities. Swapping beds to chat with others, sitting in groups to play cards (and effectively making it impossible to walk between the beds without stepping over people), some already having decided to crawl under the blankets and sleep. Jean kind of likes how life seems to continue on in here like everything is normal, even though they all know what they’re doing here, what they’ll be doing for the rest of their lives, however long that might happen to be.

But those are bad thoughts, things Jean isn’t going to think about tonight. Not on his birthday, for god’s sake.

Marco joins him on their bed; Jean isn’t really doing anything besides half-glancing at a textbook in his lap-- he takes studying pretty seriously-- but he turns to look at the guy anyway. Finds his face a little warm when Marco smiles that toothy smile at him before turning to pull off his boots and set them at their proper place at the foot of their bunk.

“Hey there, birthday boy,” Marco greets casually as he crawls up to the head of their bunk, sitting down right next to Jean, making their thighs press together as he looks over Jean to glance at the textbook before him.

Jean snorts, closing his book with a little _fwump_. “What, here to claim your own spot on me to five-star?”

Marco laughs; Jean loves that Marco laughs so often. Jean actually loves a lot of things about Marco, but those can wait to be listed until after lights out, when Marco isn’t able to see him blush in the dark.

“Nah, I’m alright on that, _but_ ,” Marco pauses, hanging off the edge of the bed for a moment before he pops back up, a small brown parcel in his hands. “I come bearing gifts!”

Jean tries not to look super shocked, but he apparently does, because Marco chuckles at him, dropping the parcel in his lap. It’s light, and the brown paper it’s wrapped in is almost like butcher paper; god, Jean hopes it isn’t food, or it’ll probably be snatched up before Jean can even enjoy it.

His hands brush over the gift, Jean feeling disgustingly sentimental as he looks at Marco, who’s smiling delightedly, leaning into Jean to nudge him. “Don’t be a dope-- open it up already!”

“Wow, rude much?”

Marco rolls his eyes. “I’ll open it for you myself--”

“Fine, fine!”

Jean carefully unwraps the present, trying not to tear into it like the child in him wants to. It’s a book, not a textbook, but an actual book. Jean doesn’t even care what it is (he’s too busy looking to Marco in shock to see what the title is), it only matters that it’s something tangible and something gifted to him. From Marco.

For whatever stupid reason, Jean kind of wants to cry.

Marco is beaming at him, scooting closer (if that’s even possible) and glancing at the gift. “My mom sent it to me last month, when I told her all we do in the evenings is play cards. I didn’t know the author or anything, but I figured you might like it.” Marco bumps him again, smirking. “Nerd.”

Jean is quiet for a long while, looking over the cover, stroking his fingers against it, as if the book might actually be an illusion of some kind. He kind of doesn’t know why Marco would gift him something so incredible (okay, “incredible” might be a bit of a stretch in reference to a book, but it’s the thought that counts), but Marco is still smiling at him, hopeful he’ll receive an answer.

“It’s great,” Jean says quietly, looking at Marco with a lopsided smile. “Really, Marco. Thanks.”

Marco laughs a little bit more, and it’s disgusting how Jean nearly melts at the sound. “If you don’t like it, it’s fine.”

“No, I do! I _really_ do.” Jean leans in a little bit, not enough for a full-on kiss, but enough to suggest one. “Thank you, Marco.”

Marco smiles, opening his mouth to speak again, but the slamming on the main door and loud call of “lights out!” cuts him off, which Jean thinks is kind of a good thing. He’s not sure what else there’d be to say to Marco, otherwise.

Everyone begins to pack it in for the night, shuffling back to their actual bunks and setting things aside for the night, textbooks and uniforms alike. Jean moves his things to tuck them into his personal trunk under his side of the bed before he and Marco pull back the sheets and climb into bed, settling down together quickly. Someone calls out a final “lights out!” before actually doing just that, leaving the barracks in darkness and a very quiet hum of whispers and sheet-rustling around them, the usual sound of night here in their quarters.

Jean rolls a bit on his side, facing Marco, and that’s when his anticipated kiss from earlier finally comes, Marco being the initiate. Their noses bump a little, but Jean couldn’t care less, because Marco’s mouth is such a unique taste that Jean doesn’t think he could ever get enough; he runs his tongue along Marco’s lower lip to convey this thought.

They have to be quiet when they kiss here, so they always make sure to pull away slowly, to avoid the wet noise of their spit-slick lips in the dark. Jean thinks it’s a dull kind of torture, but Marco always rolls his eyes and says he’d be more embarrassed if people asked about what caused such noises.

Tonight, Marco is a little more into their kissing than he usually is-- not to say he ever isn’t (it’s usually Jean who is, if either of them are at all)-- slowly sliding his hand down Jean’s torso, rubbing a bit at his belly before sliding painfully slow over his crotch, giving a firm squeeze to his cock and making Jean roll up into his hand in excitement.

They part, and Marco’s mouth is at his ear as he breathes, “One more present.”

Jean nods in agreement, trying not to tremble in excitement as Marco slinks down the bed, climbing between Jean’s long legs. He smooths his palms up Jean’s thighs, which is a weird sensation that makes Jean shiver a little bit. Marco ghosts over Jean’s underwear-clad cock, barely mouthing at him, but Jean still has to pull his hands into fists to keep from crying out in frustrated need. He feels like he’s breathing too loud, though he’s trying hard to keep his breaths even, and decides to pull Marco’s pillow over his face to muffle himself, which Marco laughs silently at.

Slowly, Jean feels Marco tugging out his hard cock, stroking it in gentle, teasing strokes. Jean cants his hips up in need, and Marco presses a firm hand to Jean’s hip, stilling him so he can take the first taste without Jean’s hips jumping up.

Jean practically chews on Marco’s pillow when he feels Marco’s warm lips slowly, _slowly_ taking in the head of his cock; he’s not going to last long but this is going to be fucking **awesome** , so he doesn’t care. His toes curl as Marco’s tongue does this incredible thing where it just _exists_ , pressing all up against the underside of Jean’s cock that makes his hips jerk up without his permission, trying to get all of the attention from Marco’s fantastic mouth. Jean’s blood is rushing in his ears, so he hopes he’s not moaning too loudly, even though he’s got Marco’s pillow crammed in his mouth as he nearly fucks the guy’s open mouth, hips bucking with wild abandon, but Marco seems to manage him well.

When he comes, it’s the best orgasm he could ever freakin’ imagine, the best one of his life so far. He feels Marco swallowing around him, making sure to leave no evidence behind, even sucking a little at Jean’s tip before completely pulling away, sitting up to wipe his lips with the back of his hand before he crawls back up to the pillows, almost laughing out when he sees his pillow over Jean’s face. Gently, he takes it back, setting it on the bed before flopping down, smiling as he watches Jean’s dumbstruck face, eyes hooded as he tries very hard not to pant loudly in the silence of night in order to avoid waking any of their comrades.

“I can’t--”

Marco shakes his head, kissing his cheek before nuzzling into his pillow, pulled close to Jean. As per usual, Jean tangles their legs up together, trapping Marco with him for the night, and mouths a ‘thank you’ to Marco for his excellent presents. Marco smiles--damn that smile, damn his stupid freckles making his cheeks look so kissable-- and tugs the covers over them a little more snug as he burrows into his pillow for the night.

“Happy birthday, Jean,” he whispers, barely audible, and Jean sighs as he closes his eyes, thankful for whatever luck just struck him.

\---

Jean and Marco quietly at breakfast together in the mess hall. Jean is picking at his roll, still half-asleep, while Marco chatters to someone Jean doesn’t really know or care to know, right this minute.

“--so weird last night, right?”

That puts a spark in Jean more than his damn breakfast does. He snaps his head to the right to look down the table they’re seated at, where Armin is chatting away just as Marco is on his left, except his conversation is much more interesting to Jean.

Eren nods in agreement, catching Jean watching his conversation, and-- the little fucker-- _smirks_ at Jean, arching an eyebrow.

“Yeah, _Kirchstein_ ,” he says, so full of snark that Jean kind of wants to slam his face into the goddamn table. “Did you hear all that _noise_ last night?”

Connie, mouth full of food, blurts out, “It sounded like someone had the shits.”

Jean feels his face going red, but he wills himself not to freak out or he’ll be caught red-handed, and shakes his head a little bit, dropping his intense gaze back down to his breakfast, which suddenly seems a little unappetizing.

He realizes Marco is laughing beside him, and Jean groans, putting his face in his hands. However, the groan he gives does not go unnoticed, because Jäger-- the fucking jackass that he is-- slams his hand on the table and shouts, “Yeah, that’s what it sounded like! Except a little more like this--” he puts a hand over his mouth before moaning out, the sound muffled by his palm. Exactly what Jean probably sounded like last night.

The boys certainly get a hoot out of that (the girls couldn’t seem to care either way) and Jean lets his forehead thump against the table as several of them start up a chorus of “ _ooh_!” at him. Marco is still laughing, but he pats Jean’s back a little before leaning down just a tad, just to whisper in his ear.

“You can do it for me next time, fair enough?”

Jean groans again, which gets the rest of his squad to start _ooh_ -ing and cackling once more. Fantastic.


End file.
